England's Tale
by FarRarAway
Summary: During the aftermath of 9/11 fem!America isn't doing so well. While in her vulnerable state she has a request for England. Fem!USUK


_**This story is set just after 9/11 in America. It's for a lovely person called JuneGilbertVivianRaeven.**_

* * *

Arthur knew Amelia wasn't okay from the moment she entered the conference hall. She was late and while this wasn't exactly new territory for the brash young nation... her appearance certainly was.

The personification of the United Kingdom's heart nearly broke when he gaze upon his former charge. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying. Her hair was one giant rat's nest with a few neat chunks here and there. It looked as if she had started to brush it and then decided it wasn't worth it. She was even dressed appropriately for a meeting.

England guessed it was because she just didn't feel in the mood to prance around in her usual mini skirt, toned stomach bared, just to watch the male nations squirm. If there was one thing America loved, it was seeing the rest of the G8 in a tizzy over her.

England suspected that it was a mixture of lording her power and the fact that she was a woman over them. Or maybe she was a sadist. It was always hard to tell with her.

Yet, he certainly didn't blame her for her sudden change of heart (temporary as it may be). A surprise terror attack is enough to turn anybody's world upside down.

America glided in to the conference room, her high heels clicking with each step as she made her way toward her seat. She set her files and notes down and pulled out her chair. Once seated she brushed her hair behind her ear and began reviewing her materials. After a few moments she seemed to realize that the conference room was silent. She looked up to find the rest of the G8 staring at her.

"Something wrong?" She asked, feigning genuine confusion rather well.

With that Germany cleared his throat and the meeting began without any other delays, he didn't even bother to lecture her about the importance of professionalism and showing up on time. The rest of the meeting was different.

Different in a bad way in England's opinion.

America hardly participated in her usual way. There were no excited declarations of "The perfect plan to solve all the world's problems!" Or any of her usual hare-brained antics. She actually contributed meaningfully. Her level-headed comments and actions baffled the other members of the G8. Nevertheless, they tiptoed around her and certain *ahem* _topics_ as if she were made of glass.

It was kind of painful to watch. Amelia was usually so bright, so... completely her own person. If Arthur were to describe her, he'd say she was like the Sun. Bright, happy, shining, and occasionally annoying. In truth, nobody could go long without talking to her. She was intoxicating.

But, now... she seemed so _deflated_.

Sure, England often questioned where he had gone wrong in raising her. _Why isn't she more logical? Why is she so obtrusive? Could she stop acting poking her nose into things that aren't her business?_

Seeing her now, he realized he never wanted any of those things for her really.

He missed his Amelia.

Once the meeting ended, England knew he needed to go to her. Even if she said she didn't need his help, she certainly needed _something_ from _somebody_. And who else would help her? Almost everyone else is afraid of her except France and Russia. But, Russia hates her guts. So who does that leave?

Bloody France.

With his decision made, Arthur cautiously stepped toward the ragged nation.

"America?" He called to her tentatively.

Amelia looked up at him and smiled. It was a rather complex smile. Part of it reminded him of when she was little and he would return from a long voyage at sea. The smile she gave him then was one of relief at seeing him. This new smile was definitely similar, except it held new emotions.

 _Sadness. Fear._

Arthur knew she needed to get away. He definitely understood that much. He smiled at her and gestured for her to follow him.

He heard the clacking of her heels as she allowed herself to be led out of the building and down the street. He led her all the way to a nearby park. Arthur found the closest tree and sat down beneath it. He patted the space next to him, "Take a seat, love." He invited.

America gazed at him for a moment, as if she were deep in thought. Then she slid herself out of her blazer, unbuttoned the top buttons on her shirt that threatened to strangled her, and plopped down next to him. She kicked off her shoes and leaned her back against the trunk of the tree.

"Nice park." She commented.

England smirked, "Nice tree."

Amelia giggled and Arthur almost breathed a sigh of relief. _Oh thank goodness she's still there._

"Was there something you wanted to talk about, Artie?" She asked in that same tone that feigned ignorance. England was surprised that she called him Artie and it didn't even bother him.

"Was there something _you_ wanted to talk about, America?"

She groaned, " _God_ I used to hate that when I was younger." She paused to lean forward and look at him in the eyes, "Still do." She stated plainly and fell back against the tree with a huff.

England just chuckled, "I know, love. But, I needed some pride as a parent back then. You were quite the handful. So _curious_."

America didn't say anything for awhile and they sat in a comfortable silence.

"They're treating me like I'll break any second, Artie." Amelia finally said.

England looked over at her and opened his mouth to speak. He was promptly cut off by her, "And don't you dare say, 'Will you?' Because I swear I'll punch you."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Oh, please, America. Give me some credit."

America playfully shoved his arm after that and they lapsed into another silence.

"Hey, Arthur?"

"Hmm? What is it, love?"

"Will you... tell me a story? Like when I was little...?"

England snapped his head over to her. What he found was a precious sight to behold, indeed. America, that strong independent country, was blushing and it wasn't just a light pink tint. No, it was a full on bright, flushed red. Arthur struggled desperately to keep the stupid grin off his face.

 _She's really too cute._ He gushed internally.

On the outside he managed to maintain his composure. With a sigh he turned back facing forward, "Sure. Whatever you want, love."

"Don't you 'love' me. Get on with it!"

Arthur almost laughed out loud as visions of their past drifted through his mind. It warmed his heart to see her pout like a child. It reminded him of better days.

"All right, all right. Once upon a time-"

America snorted, "Really? Great start, Artie. Very original."

England shot her a glare, "Who's telling this story?"

"Oh, right. Sorry."

England took a deep breath before starting again, "Once upon a time there was a low ranking elvish warrior called Atoc.

"Now, in Atoc's kingdom there was a prejudice against bears. More specifically the Bear King himself. His people lived in fear that one day the Bear King would command the bears under him to attack the elves. Because of the bears' strength the elves knew they would surely be demolished.

"Of course, there was no basis for their fears. The Bear King never harbored any ill will against the elves, but many beings tend to be afraid of others different than from themselves.

"Anyway, Atoc set out to kill the Bear King in search of fame and glory. He supposed that his people would regard him as a hero for the Bear King's defeat.

"So, he went in to the deepest parts of the forest, where the bears were said to dwell, and began setting up traps for the Bear King.

"But, Atoc underestimated the Bear King. He outsmarted every trap Atoc left for him. Many months passed and Atoc continued in his pursuit of the Bear King.

"One day, in a tree at the base of a hill, he was lucky enough to get a shot at him. Atoc readied his bow and took it without a second thought. The Bear King let out a pained roar and bolted up the hill. But, he made a mistake through the fog his pain had created. The path he took up the hill was a patch with few trees. The Bear King was the perfect target as Atoc shot arrow after arrow with deadly precision.

"When the ninth arrow struck him, the Bear King collapsed."

America gasped and shouted, "What the hell kinda story is this, Artie?!"

Arthur smirked and shushed her before continuing. America narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms. "Atoc watched the Bear King's spirit leave his body. In the end he had accomplished his task. But, as he watched death embrace such a magnificent and formidable foe, he couldn't find a reason to rejoice.

"Atoc gave the Bear King a proper burial and returned home without proof of his deed.

"He became an advocate for the bears after that and never raised another weapon against them. Atoc made it his personal mission to educate his people that the bears weren't to be feared, but respected.

"It was a tough battle, but in the end Atoc saved many bears from being hunted out of fear. Unknowingly he became the Champion of the Bears."

America hummed thoughtfully when England finished, "Okay, I guess it wasn't a terrible story. But, I'm still pissed he killed the Bear King."

England laughed, "Well, if it's any consolation he is too. But, I'm glad you liked it, Amelia."

America froze for a fraction of a second. England hadn't called her by her human name in a _very_ long time. Amelia was surprised to realize that she preferred it to America... but, only from him. She fought a vicious battle to keep a creeping blush at bay and stood. America was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with her feelings at this point. An overwhelming need to get back to her home grasping at her furiously.

"Thanks, Arthur." She said as she quickly shrugged her blazer on and slipped back in to her shoes.

England rose as well. "Anytime." He said, really meaning it.

America flushed and cleared her throat, "Well, I've got to get back. Tony gets upset when I forget about our mid afternoon Marvel vs. Capcom match." She turned and rushed off, not waiting for his reply.

Arthur smiled and watched her go. "Same old, Amelia." He said to no one in particular.

"You really should be going after her."

Arthur whipped around to find France. "Christ! How long have you been standing there?!"

"Long enough to know that you two should really stop beating around the bush. She obviously likes you. And I remember when she left how heart broken you were. It's painfully obvious the feeling is mutual."

England glared, "I don't think now is really a good time, considering. Bugger off, frog."

France sighed, "If now isn't a good time, when is? Chances are you will continue to delay telling her your feelings."

England shook his head and crossed his arms, "Why are you even here? Did you follow us?"

"Oh, please. You can't keep the amour away from me." France brushed the question aside. "Come now, Angleterre. Don't you just want to take her, hold her in your arms, and-"

"That's enough, France!" England shouted, face beet red.

"Ohonhon~" Francis chuckled, "What about during the British Invasion awhile back? Wouldn't that have been the perfect time? But, you squandered that opportunity as well."

England sighed and dropped his head in his hands, "I just... can't."

France was silent for a moment. "You're afraid she'll leave you again."

England raised his head to look at France, his expression pained. "France, I'd have so much more left to lose."

"You two are so dramatic. It's adorable and incredibly frustrating all at once." France hummed.

England narrowed his gaze, "I'm glad my love life is so entertaining." With that he turned and stormed off.

Too bad France just followed him, all the way to the airport... and then his home, "Ha! So you admit it?"

"I don't recall saying anything of the sort."

"But, you implied it."

"That doesn't count!"

"Ohonhon~ Denial is a dead giveaway, Angleterre."

"Would you shut your gob?!"

"Not until you and the lady Amelia have accepted your feelings for each other!"

" _Bleeding arsehole._ "

"What was that, Angleterre?"

"Clear off!"

* * *

 _ **I couldn't figure out how to end this... so I decided France would make an appearance. I actually like France. I feel like he isn't portrayed well in the fandom sometimes. But, he's a good dude.**_

 _ **Also, the bear story; it's an actual story (of course I added elves and a bear king). The original story is about a farmer in Utah, the bear was Old Ephraim. I really liked it so I decided it's be nice for Arthur to tell it to Amelia.**_

 _ **-FRA**_


End file.
